


Two Serpents and a Song

by earlymorningechoes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Wicked Grace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8138654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlymorningechoes/pseuds/earlymorningechoes
Summary: Harding's had a crush on Krem for a while, but she's not quite sure what to do about it. Maybe a game of Wicked Grace will help.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swordliliesandebony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swordliliesandebony/gifts).



> Beta-read by @openended.

    The tavern’s crowded and a bit stuffy, as it always is in the evening, and Harding finds herself pushed by a swell of people into the back corner. Once she has her bearings again, she realizes she's close to a table taken over by a few of the Bull’s Chargers. She doesn’t give them much thought until she sees Krem, leaning back in his chair and laughing, and her heart skips a beat.

    She shakes her head, trying to knock a few well-entrenched thoughts loose. It does no good to try and convince herself that she finds him fascinating because he's Tevinter and she's curious; she's attracted to him, and the fact he carries a war hammer that weighs twice what she does does nothing to help that attraction abate. But the times when they're both at Skyhold are few and far between, and she's sure he's never taken more notice of her than as someone who shows up in the background of his life once in a while.

    As she wrestles with her thoughts and sips at the mug of ale in her hands, someone pulls out a deck of cards and starts to deal for Wicked Grace. Before she's fully conscious of what she's doing, she's pushing her way forward, dragging a chair behind her and nearly shouting above all the voices. “Deal me in!” She sits heavily in the chair, tipsier than she thought if she's willing to go through with this, and nearly bends double when a hand drops onto her shoulder.

    “Good to have you, Harding!” says Krem, his voice close behind her, and it's all she can do to reach out and pick up the cards arrayed on the table. He pushes Dalish affectionately, and when she vacates her chair with only minimal grumbling and Krem takes it, directly across from her, Harding can feel her heart start to pound. She's never actually been this close to him for so long before, and she tries in vain to hide her quickly-reddening cheeks. No one seems to notice, and she’s relieved that the crowded tavern and the ale would be a valid excuse if anyone did. When the game starts in earnest she keeps her focus on her cards.

    She relaxes as the game goes on, with everyone telling stories and bad jokes, and she relishes the informality. Krem talks about running through caves away from a pissed-off giant, and even though she's heard the story before she still breathes a sigh of relief when all the Chargers make it out. People keep dropping out of the game as usual, but she holds her own, and someone keeps the mug at her elbow full. She stops drinking about halfway in, not wishing to repeat the legendary hangover from last time she overdid the Herald’s Rest ale.

    Soon enough, a soldier whose name she can't remember drops out, and it's just her and Krem left. A knowing snigger comes from behind her.

     “Loser gives the winner a kiss!” someone shouts, and the crowd cheers. Krem tilts his head towards her with a smile and raised eyebrows, asking. She nods, and his grin widens.

    “Hear hear!” he says loudly, lifting his tankard toward her, and the crowd echoes.

    She deals the last round, warm and buzzing from the alcohol and the upcoming kiss. The cheers wind down as people return to their own conversations, and the game plays out as it usually does: they both move quickly, their discard piles growing steadily and occasionally shrinking as they cheat.

    In the end, Krem wins - three serpents to her two serpents and a song. Someone starts up a chant of “kiss him!” and she clambers onto a chair so she's vaguely at his eye level. As the chant dissolves back into wordless cheering, she tries not to lose herself in his eyes. After a moment’s pause, she closes her eyes and presses her lips to his. 

    There's no sudden electricity between them - she's kissed enough people to know that only happens in books - but the kiss is warm, and soft, and better than anything she had imagined. And she definitely wants to kiss him again.

    They break apart to more cheers. She turns carefully on the chair, looking out over the crowd and laughing before taking a comical bow. He reaches out a hand to help her down, and once she's got both feet firmly planted on the ground again they're both surrounded by the rest of the Chargers, laughing and clapping them both on the back. As the tavern starts to empty into the courtyard, the crisp air a welcome change after the warmth inside, she realizes how late it is. Everyone starts to head back to their own tents, grumbling good-naturedly about the coming day, but Harding holds back for a moment, weighing her options. When Krem looks back and gives her a crooked smile, she makes up her mind and hurries over to where he's standing with Rocky.

    “Hey Krem,” she starts off, and her stomach lurches with anticipation when Rocky melts into the shadows, leaving her alone with Krem for probably the first time ever. She shuffles her feet slightly before continuing, uncharacteristically nervous under his steady gaze and slightly sobered from the rush of adrenaline. “Would you like to…” She trails off as a low whistle comes from somewhere in the courtyard, reminding her that a number of both the Chargers and her scouts are still hanging around. Rolling her eyes, she makes a quick decision and looks up.

    “Come back to my tent?” she finishes, not really a question anymore. His answering grin is brilliant, and he turns to flash a rude gesture in the vague direction of the whistler. As they head for the stairs down into the lower courtyard, he rests his hand on her shoulder, comforting and gentle.

    She has her own tent, and in a spot secluded from the wind. When they both crawl in, she realizes she may have made a mistake - while the tent is quite roomy for a single dwarf, sharing the space with a Krem-sized human is a bit more difficult. But he pulls her close for another kiss, deeper and more intense than in the tavern, and the small space doesn't matter when she wants to be this close to him.

    He stays the night, leaving when the sun peeks over the mountains and the sky fades to pink and yellow. By the time she's up and gone through morning drills with her scouts, training and checking that all their gear is in order, he and the Chargers have left Skyhold, traveling around Orlais to hopefully recruit more companies like their own, now that the civil war is officially over. She sighs as she heads down to the kitchen to grab something to eat, a little more disappointed than she expected at his absence, and is so lost in her thoughts that she just about doesn't notice someone walking up to her until she's almost bumped into them.

    A messenger, and a young one, his expression a familiar combination of nerves and pride when he tells her that she's wanted in the war room. She hands him a few pieces of silver before he runs off, and he thanks her with such a toothy grin that she chuckles as she continues to the kitchen, knowing things will be a whirlwind of preparation and leaving once she's briefed and not wanting to miss her breakfast.

    She and her scouts are off to the Emprise du Lion almost before she can blink, as always happens when they're needed to open the way for the Inquisitor. Looking up at the cloudy sky as they start down the mountain, she sends up a quick prayer to the Maker for Krem’s safety and for her own, then falls easily into the rhythm of the ride.

    Nearly a month passes before they're both back in Skyhold, coming home with the Emprise freed from the red templars and a number of mercenary companies newly flying the Inquisition flag. Harding sees Krem first in the courtyard, sparring with the Iron Bull, and she hesitates; she’s unsure of where they’re at with so much time in between. But Bull looks up and waves her over when they stop for water, and Krem flashes her a smile that she returns easily, her nerves disappearing. She grabs a nearby towel and tosses it to him as he sets down his practice weapon, and Seeker Pentaghast takes his place opposite Bull. They watch the sparring for a few minutes before walking up to the ramparts.

    “I’m never complaining about the cold in Skyhold again,” she says, even as she shivers slightly under a gust of mountain air. “Not after the Emprise.”

    He grins and reaches out to put his arm around her, waiting for her to nod before he does. “Rocky would trade you; he got so sunburnt this time out he’s still covered in salve.” She makes such an uncomfortable face in response that he has to stop to catch his breath from laughing. They keep walking, trading more stories of their missions.

    “It's good to see you,” he says eventually, and she slips a hand into his and tugs until he bends down to kiss her. As they head back down to the upper courtyard, he hurries to catch up with some of the other Chargers, heading inside to brief Commander Cullen on the outcome of their mission. She watches him go before going back to her own work, updating the Inquisition’s maps of the territories she's scouted.

    The next week passes passes quickly, both the scouts and the Chargers stationed at Skyhold while they wait for the Inquisitor herself to return from the Emprise. Both Harding and Krem are busy, catching up on work left to the wayside while in the field. They spend their time in the tavern or the courtyard, and once in a memorable bout of sparring that ends with Harding flat on her back and crying tears of laughter.

   And when she returns to her tent in the evenings, he's waiting outside, leaning nonchalantly against the stone wall nearby. Some nights they’ll share a kiss before he heads back off to the Chargers’ tents, but some nights she’ll invite him into her tent again. Skyhold’s sounds are quiet and calming, and each night she’ll look up at the stars.

    “I could get used to this,” she tells him one night, and when he smiles, she can’t help but think a quick prayer of thanks for Wicked Grace.


End file.
